They burst open, and he turned to re-mount his horse. But the creature stood with planted fore-feet and quivering nostrils, and he saw that there was no time in which to urge him forward, as the Gates were closing again. He tore the cormorant’s wings from where they hung on the saddle, together with his few provisions and a water-flask, and was just in time to rush through them before they swung together with a crash that rang through the air like thunder, and sent the frightened horse tearing over the plain. Then he stood unhorsed and alone on the confines of the desert.
His only chance now lay in making use of the cormorant’s wings, which he had hitherto omitted to do, preferring to travel on horseback. But he fastened them to his shoulders by the power of the magic shoe and toiled on, directed by the Golden Heart, going straight forward until his provisions were nearly done. One morning he reached a green oasis on which rose a fountain, bubbling in a grove of feathery acacia trees, and, as he lay resting in the shade, he saw two birds sitting among the boughs and talking together. Remembering the feathers in his cap, he wished to be invisible and to understand their language.
“Look at that cool water,” said one. “When we have arranged our wings and tails a little after our flight, we will go down and drink. We shall not get a chance again till we reach the stream flowing through the marsh land for which we are bound.”
“Very well,” replied the other, “and, after that, we will start at once, for I am anxious to get home. I have not seen my family for an age, and I think it is really time I put in an appearance. We can be there by nightfall.”
When the Prince heard this he resolved to follow them; and when the two birds had satisfied their thirst and set off on their journey, he spread his wings and sailed with rapid strokes after them.
“What an odd rushing there is in the air beside us,” observed one; “the wind must be going to change.”
By the time it was dark they entered the marsh land and saw a glimmer of the stream for which the Prince was looking. In due time they flew across it, and he alighted on the further bank and dropped his wings while he sat down to rest. His hopes were high as he thought of his lost Princess—lost perhaps no longer—and he anticipated the moment of finding the plant with joy almost amounting to dread. He rose to his feet and wished for the power of seeing in the dark.
He saw that he stood in the midst of so wonderful a piece of scenery that he could hardly believe himself awake. Just in front of him appeared the rock which the Golden Heart had described as being like the entrance to a tomb. It rose upwards out of a deep, dark pool, and a great star which stood in silver radiance over the summit threw a long steel-blue reflection trailing across the silent water. Down the face of the rock, and all round on a tangle of low bushes which closed him in on every side, hung thick wreaths of white convolvulus; strange lights flashed in and out among the heavy foliage, and from the blossoms rolled drops of scented dew like the tears of a weeping enchantress.
The air was faint with enchantment; the Ugly Prince felt a languor creeping over his body. His senses seemed to be fading from him, and, fearing that he might be overcome by the strange atmosphere of the place, he dashed through the bushes towards an open space not far off. There his eyes fell on a tall, solitary plant growing in the very centre of the clearing, and perceiving it to be none other than the object of his search, he threw himself upon the ground beside it, took the Golden Heart from his bosom and pressed it to his lips, covering it with passionate kisses.
His journey was done, his troubles ended; he had now only to wait till the plant had grown as high as his knee to bathe his face in the juice of the berries and all would be well. He would go back across the desert, through the Great Gates and over the world to his Princess’s kingdom, a changed man, with his happiness lying before him. He pictured the joy of the King, the delight of the faithful little boy who awaited him, and the clinging arms of his adored Princess, as he lay hour after hour beside the green stem and watched it grow taller and saw the berries begin to take shape and colour. At last, it had grown almost to the height of his knee, and, as he sat waiting in the breaking daylight for the moment when he should pluck his treasure, the Prince heard footsteps behind him, and, springing to his feet, beheld a tattered figure which started on seeing him, and then, with a long cry, fell prostrate upon the earth.